ICRP Thread IV: Back to Business

Archive 33AR
#1

Zek got up, dusted the dirt from his trousers, and reholstered his canteen. He’d walked halfway back from the fairy pools, and now he felt capable of making the other half. The bandage on his shin itched; he’d have to get Ashdown to look at it. The shores of the river delta was probably not the best place to patch yourself up, even if you were bleeding heavily on your return from hell.

Still, plenty of reasons to be happy. Hell-silver, which was already causing a lot of fraught discussions, but it was better than no good options at all. Only one loss from the trip, and Zek assumed it wasn’t a permanent loss. Montgomery would be back, just maybe… in Spain or something. It might take a while to get back from Spain. Depends on how you traveled.

Have you ever seen an antimatter explosion?

If Zek ever saw Crow again, he’d be able to say he’d seen two. He’d evaporated demons, given the last rites to a walking corpse. He’d been a hero for a brief moment. There was a loud hiss of steam, and Zek looked up as the mercenary airship drifted lazily overhead, on its way back to Hanover. Zek smiled and then, slowly, the smile turned to a look of utter bewilderment at what the airship was towing.

#2

Dahlia awoke, slightly dazed. Then it hit her. She needed more. Her body needed it. She hurt all over, and felt like she was going to be sick. Her body shook and she felt sweaty.

After an attempt to get up, she realized her so called friends had sedated her, with HER OWN concoction. She couldn’t move. It was probably the drugs talking when she thought “Damn, I’m good”. She realized something felt missing. Her necklace with the key. Oh god no, anything but that. It wasn’t the key that mattered. The key was on her necklace her mother put on her at birth. A necklace she never took off. No matter the amount of rage she felt, she couldn’t get up from her bed in the ship.

She heard a loud thunk and realized it was her statue that made that noise and she smiled a little to herself. They must be back on Skye now… And she has her own trophy. Secretly, Dahlia sometimes feels she must be a Valkyrie. She’d be long dead by now if she wasn’t…right?
In fact, she felt drowsy again as substances still pumped through her system. “Time for sleep… Yelling later… Hold on to papa” she thought as she drifted back to the blank state of the drugs.

#3

The camp’s acquired a layer of soot and a few new blast craters while the two groups were away. #23 (in combat gear) greets you all at the docking tower, raises an eyebrow at the eight-foot high valkyrie statue that now rests on the ground, and explains that “there were some people who came by to talk to us about the fate of our immortal souls. We weren’t keen to become children of Ba’al, and they took it personally, those shock fields are excellent for deterring uninvited guests from entering.”

#4

Esther had been standing at the airship’s window, watching the rapidly approaching sight of Hanover Camp. She’d found herself hoping that the landing would take longer than it actually had, but when Skye appeared over the horizon it had grown in her field of vision with an alarming quickness.

The longer it took to return to Skye, the longer she could put off having to confess to Dahlia’s father that she’d gotten his daughter addicted to something stronger than the morphine she’d been weaning herself off of. To Moss about the danger she’d brought Harriet into. To Jasper about how she’d done what she’d sworn she’d never do, and used her artifact to control demons, not to mention explaining what a monster his wife-to-be was quite literally capable of becoming.

(And, of course, there was the matter of those bruises on Ivy and Dahlia- The ones that weren’t demonically inflicted.)

Then there was the matter of the person she’d wronged the most, sleeping peacefully in a makeshift cradle made from an old crate that had once transported ammunition. Esther couldn’t shake the feeling that anyone who was fit to be a mother simply wouldn’t have found herself facing down a demon with her baby in her arms as the demon said those words that kept playing in Esther’s head: “Why don’t you leave your baby with me? I’ll eat the flesh from her bones. Or, I’ll raise her, farm her,” (at this point in the memory, a rage so strong that she thought it might make her sick rose up in her) and eat her children."

The ship landed with an anticlimactic thunk! Esther pulled her glove down, concealing the artifact on her arm and moved to carefully lift Harriet, who continued sleeping.

Time to face the consequences.

#5

In a hot sweat, Dahlia awoke moments later. She could hear scuffling above her from everyone getting off the ship. What were they planning to do, just leave her?

Slowly, she got up. The sedatives had mostly worn off. She felt ill. Really, really rotten ill, unlike anything she had ever felt. She knew what would make it better, she must go find #74. Slowly and carefully, she rolled off her bunk, forgetting it was high up and she fell to the floor. “Fjandinn!” she swore as she hit the hard wood. However the pain she felt was barely in her side that she was now lying on. Her neck was severely bruised. She was choked by that demon twice and by Esther all in the space of a few hours. There was a lump on the back of her head where she was knocked out from behind by a resurrected corpse. A good cut ran down her right arm and hand. It didn’t hurt as much as it looked like it would, thankfully. Her knees were bloodied and cut.

'Well, I’ve had worse" she smirked to herself as she got to her feet somehow. Then the memories flooded back. The demon grabbing her from behind and putting a knife to her, bargaining with Ivy and Sameera to save her while she told them to go and leave her. Then the pain of the blade going through her, the blood going everywhere and pouring out of her torso and mouth before being thrown at her friends. Then blackness.

The whole time as she stared in to her friend’s desperate faces, she was preparing herself. They always say that you can see your life flashing before your eyes before you die, this must have been what happened to her. Her friend’s faces faded in to her mother’s and father’s faces. She was reliving a memory she always remembered. She was 6 years old and she witnessed a demon attack for the first time. Her father was holding her tightly while her mother sat closely in front of her holding her hands. She looked in to her mother’s kind eyes as she said softly “It’s okay, our little angel… it’s okay. Papa and I will always protect you, remember that”. She felt herself in her parent’s arms as the blade went through her.

Tears starting going down her eyes, and she knew where she had to go. Her medical help can wait, she needed to see her father. With determination, she found her spare key and stumbled out of her room and up towards the upper deck.

She needed her father more than ever

#6

#99 hovered in a corner out of the way as everyone prepared to leave the ship, watching in case anyone needed her help. She was unharmed from their trip, which she thought might be a habit of hers - everyone else got hurt, but she always came out unscathed. She wished she had at least one small wound, just so she wouldn’t have to admit to #74 that she’d hidden behind the others as often as possible.

She supposed it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t carry weapons to defend herself. Except, the incident with the crossbow that led to that particular rule had been completely her fault… Stupid, clumsy #99. Stupid body that wasn’t even hers.

She did what she could to help. It never really seemed enough.

As she watched the others, #99 realised she hadn’t seen Dahlia come up to the deck yet. Maybe she was still sleeping off the effects of the drugs? Or maybe her injuries were preventing her from moving. Either way, she shouldn’t be left alone on the ship.

After glancing around to make sure no-one else needed assistance, #99 headed down towards Dahlia’s cabin.

#7

Jane smiled politely and slipped away from the others, heading towards the Skye Infernonaught post. She scratched at her cheeks nervously, too much exposure to Alexia-thing had made her over-sensitive was all. It was her own face… it was. She quickened her pace, telling herself she needed to write her report.

#8

Ivy woke up in the infirmary. She could hear the low murmur of voices all around her, and the pain in her neck was excruciating. The pain killers #99 had given her seemed to have worn off. No doubt for the best, she didn’t have time to deal with getting off them. Her head was pounding too. Not from the pain, at least not completely. She’d been dreaming for days. Vivid, senseless dreams of places and a time and horrors she’d never truly experienced. Of teeth ripping into her skin and her life blood slowly draining out.

Lucky for her #99 was there and saved her life. It seemed every time she turned around she had another reason to thank the homunculi around her. “They are loved” she whispered.

She needed to rest. To heal. She and Sameera had things they needed to do and the only way they could get started was to be healthy.

Ivy rolled over in the bed and drifted off to sleep, remembering the feel of #74’s hand on her head keeping her safe while #99 saved Dahlia.

#9

Dahlia was met by #99 as she approached the stairs leading to the upper deck

“Oh, hi #99” she tried to say. The puzzled look on #99’s face confirmed that what she said was definitely not in English. “Stupid brain”, she thought, “stop mixing up the languages”.

“Sorry” she choked. “Downside of being multilingual”. #99 had her usual deer-in-headlights look as Dahlia pushed gently past her and towards the upper deck

She could hear some form of sentence from #99 calling after her, but she didn’t care. She spotted her necklace sitting by the wheel. Sighing with relief, Dahlia grabbed it and put the stone back around her neck. She felt her mother’s protection once more.

“pappa… pappa” she muttered to herself as she somehow managed to walk off the ship with barely anyone stopping her and made her way down the airship landing, with more speed than someone in her condition should be able to make.

Getting off the final step, ignoring any voices that were calling after her, she looked towards the giant stone statue. The valkyrie. She smiled, quite proud of what she did. “I wonder if father will think it looks like mother too” she smiled to herself before collapsing in front of it.

#10

When she realised that she was probably the last one on the ship, Esther made up her mind that it was time to depart- No point in putting off the inevitable. She’d made her bed, now to lie in it. Et cetera, et cetera.

She then spent the next ten minutes fussing with Harriet’s blankets, ensuring that everything she’d had with her when she’d first boarded was still in her bag, checking the bandages on her arm and leg just in case they needed replacing, fixing a loose ribbon on one of her gloves.

This was absurd, she knew. Somewhere down there in the camp were Jasper and Zek and Moss and Leo and Lily and Margaret and Jack and her beloved infirmary and the Taverna and everything she’d spent the last week missing, and here she was, immobilised by the dread of facing it. Even if her worst fears had proven true and she wasn’t fit to be trusted, she needed to just get it over with.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Harriet, then wondered if it were possible for a pre-verbal child to tire of hearing the same words repeatedly.

With one hand on Harriet, still sleeping in her sling, and the other clutching her pocket watch, Esther walked down the airship’s steps to the ground. Almost immediately, her single-minded determination to endure the fallout from the last week’s events with as much grace as she could muster was interrupted as she was met by the sight of Dahlia collapsing on the ground in front of her.

Kneeling beside her, she asked #99, “Do you think you can help me get her back to the infirmary? Or shall one of us run over to fetch someone? She doesn’t appear injured, and she’s breathing… What happened right before she fell?”

#11

Dahlia woke up, groggy and now more aware of everything. She had been acting really weirdly, and now she knew it. “Oh no, did I really say that about the statue…” she moaned in her head, ashamed of how she had been acting under the influence of many substances given to her. What would Daniel think of her…

She was unsure how much time had passed. Was it a few minutes, or a few hours? The familiar sterile white of the Infirmary ceiling came in to focus. Well, at least she was home.
“Pappa…” she said out loud softly. She was unsure how to explain her current condition to him. Or even if she should inform her father that she was dying and then dead for almost a minute.
She moved her head slowly to the side, hoping to see someone come in to focus.

#12

[quote=“BlackDahlia”]
She moved her head slowly to the side, hoping to see someone come in to focus.[/quote]

Ivy smiled back from across the room. “Nice to see you’ve woken up. We were getting a little worried.” Her bandage had been recently changed, but a small amount of blood had seeped through regardless. “You’ve been out a couple of days. Dr Ashdown thought it might be better to keep you knocked out while the drugs left your system.”

She winced a little and gingerly rose to her feet. Limping, she walked over and sat down beside her.

#13

[quote=“sophmelc”]

Ivy smiled back from across the room. “Nice to see you’ve woken up. We were getting a little worried.” Her bandage had been recently changed, but a small amount of blood had seeped through regardless. “You’ve been out a couple of days. Dr Ashdown thought it might be better to keep you knocked out while the drugs left your system.”

She winced a little and gingerly rose to her feet. Limping, she walked over and sat down beside her.[/quote]

Her eyes widened. “A-a couple of days?!” with all her strength returning, she sat up. After a few deep breaths, she looked at Ivy and spoke with a hushed tone “Who-who knows what happened to me? How many have been told? The part about me ingesting something meant for homunculi and behaving oddly could be left out and between just us…” Dahlia was worried about disappointing the two men who voiced their opinion very strongly about her past excessive use of morphine. If they knew how much she wanted and needed whatever it was her friends gave her now… she couldn’t handle that kind of judgement. At least they weren’t around to see her behaviour. Although, that statue will need some explaining to everyone.

#14

Esther heard Dahlia’s voice before she could see her. Gratitude that she’d woken up at last mingled with nervousness over having to face her, but she forced herself onward, toward the infirmary.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” she said as she moved into the room. She went to the table beside Dahlia’s bed and removed the flowers from the vase that rested on it, then set about replacing them with the fresh ones she’d been carrying. She began fussing over their arrangement. “We were all worried.”

#15

#74 was smoking on the porch. Her retraining had been postponed until mid January, so she’d get to spend Christmas and New Years’ on Skye. But until then (and after) there was the dreary business of getting on with it. Lord Kain’s letter was burning a hole in her pocket. She was tired.

#16

[quote=“siximpossiblethings”]Esther heard Dahlia’s voice before she could see her. Gratitude that she’d woken up at last mingled with nervousness over having to face her, but she forced herself onward, toward the infirmary.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” she said as she moved into the room. She went to the table beside Dahlia’s bed and removed the flowers from the vase that rested on it, then set about replacing them with the fresh ones she’d been carrying. She began fussing over their arrangement. “We were all worried.”[/quote]

“Has it seriously been a couple of days, Esther?” she asked, a strong tone of worry in her voice as she turned her attention from Ivy. “I always seem to get back on my feet it seems” she laughed nervously, holding the stone around her neck. “Does… anyone know what happened in the mansion, you know, besides us?” she asked the two.

#17

[quote=“BlackDahlia”]“Has it seriously been a couple of days, Esther?” she asked, a strong tone of worry in her voice as she turned her attention from Ivy. “I always seem to get back on my feet it seems” she laughed nervously, holding the stone around her neck. “Does… anyone know what happened in the mansion, you know, besides us?” she asked the two.
[/quote]

Esther moved to the edge of Dahlia’s bed and sat. “I’ve told a few people. I didn’t see the need to keep what we found a secret- The machine we brought back is so important to our understanding of…” she waved her hand vaguely. “Everything. People need hope right now. The more we understand what happened in that place, the better chance we have of fixing it, I think.”

Looking down at her hands, she continued, “How are you feeling? Do… do you remember what happened to you?”

#18

[quote=“siximpossiblethings”]

Looking down at her hands, she continued, “How are you feeling? Do… do you remember what happened to you?”[/quote]

Dahlia slowly nodded “I remember everything… what I saw… What I felt…” She felt selfish, all this fuss over her. She disliked anyone fussing over her. “More importantly, how are you?”

#19

“Tired,” she replied automatically, then regretted it. For the last few days she’d been hearing about how tired she looked, inevitably followed by some well-meaning friend offering to look after Harriet so that she could get some rest- After which she’d give thanks then disappear to occupy herself with something else. Sleep meant re-living the feeling of the demons’ teeth on her body and what Fangeman had threatened to do to her Harriet but if, she found, she waited until she passed out through sheer exhaustion, she slept more deeply and was less likely to dream. Strong coffee and a constant string of menial errands were currently her salvation.

Looking Dahlia in the eye, she asked, “So you remember me injecting you with Milton’s solution? And you know that it’s addictive?”

#20

[quote=“siximpossiblethings”]“Tired,” she replied automatically, then regretted it. For the last few days she’d been hearing about how tired she looked, inevitably followed by some well-meaning friend offering to look after Harriet so that she could get some rest- After which she’d give thanks then disappear to occupy herself with something else. Sleep meant re-living the feeling of the demons’ teeth on her body and what Fangeman had threatened to do to her Harriet but if, she found, she waited until she passed out through sheer exhaustion, she slept more deeply and was less likely to dream. Strong coffee and a constant string of menial errands were currently her salvation.

Looking Dahlia in the eye, she asked, “So you remember me injecting you with Milton’s solution? And you know that it’s addictive?”[/quote]

“Tired huh? Well I know how that feels. This is the most I have slept in probably a whole year” she smiled weakly. Thor and the rest of the crew knew very well of her sleep patterns. Well, lack of that is. In front of everyone at the camp, she usually pretends to sleep if they walk in on her at her desk or chair in the Infirmary, but the physical signs of no sleeping are becoming more and more obvious.

“Milton’s solution? Is that what it’s called? Huh…” Odd name she thought, obviously the maker was very proud. Proud enough to put their name on a very dangerous substance. “What… what is in it? I don’t feel right, at all. Could I maybe look at the recipe? You know… to make sure it isn’t lethal or harmful…” That was partially a lie and she knew it. She was curious, but she was also craving it. Whatever it was, she felt like she needed it. “Oh and have you seen my father at all? I’d really love to see him…”

"Oh, and don’t worry about addicting substances and me, I’ve had my fair share… " she clapped her hand over her mouth at that point. Her mind mustn’t be functioning properly she thought, that was meant to be said in just her head.